


Coming Home

by Mastre



Series: Secret Pleasures [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mastre/pseuds/Mastre
Summary: Suffering from memories and bad dreams, Loki risks everything to seek out the one who might help.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Secret Pleasures [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696126
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	Coming Home

It was a foolish endeavor, he knew. Of all the things he could have chosen to do while posing as the Allfather, this was no doubt the most reckless of them all. Yet he was here, secretly visiting the house where he'd spent so many times indulging in pleasures. 

Visiting her.

Her eyes were the same, dark and captivating, yet different. She didn't look at him the way she used to. Now she was wary, guarded.

"I believe my son came to see you on more than one occasion", Loki said in Odin's voice, watching her reaction carefully.

"If he did, I cannot say," she answered. "Many young men have come to me, and I've been told your son was most skilled in illusions and deception. He could have been one of them, and I would not have known."

He wondered for a moment if she saw through his disguise, and this was her way of telling him. She was most perceptive, as was in her trade.

"I have not yet mentioned of which son I speak," he pointed out. 

She didn't flinch.  
"That is so, but the older prince I would have known by looks, and as far as I'm aware, he is not the one who masters the art of magic. We both know this."

They did indeed. If Thor sought to visit a pleasure lady he wouldn't have chosen this one, of that he was also quite sure. 

As of now, they both knew where they had each other. She was not going to deny or confirm anything, yet her words were carefully chosen to convey the truth. It pleased him.

"Why do you believe my son kept returning here?" he said gravely. "You do specialize in first experiences, do you not?"

"So I do," she admitted, "but he would not have been the only one who enjoyed my particular service enough to return. What I provide is an experience that is not only suited to ones with no prior practice, but to others as well."

She did indeed. What she had done was to provide not merely an experience of physical satisfaction, but one of care and comfort. 

Briefly, he wondered if all had been different had he turned to her when finding out about his heritage. Would she have been able to soothe the wound the revelation had opened in his soul? He would never know.

"As I'm sure you are aware, my son was lost far from home." He watched her intently, measuring her reaction.

"So I am aware," she confirmed. "All of Asgard knows this."   
The sadness in her voice was as pronounced as the one in her eyes; there was little doubt that his presumed death had bothered her.

"You cared for him?"

"Of course I mourned Asgard's lost prince," she said, "as we all should. And had he been one of the young men visiting me I most certainly would have enjoyed his company."

She was discreet indeed, but he needed to be sure. There was no return if he rushed into this; it could cost him everything.

"And if it was found he wasn't, after all, lost... if he was to return and seek your company once more, would you receive him?"

Her eyes widened for a moment, then her face took on an air of caution even more pronounced than before.  
"If the younger prince would see it fit to seek my company I would be most honored to welcome him. That is, was he found to be alive still."

He nodded, then rose.  
"I am pleased to hear that there are those who treasure my son's memory, despite his actions."

"Of course, your Majesty."

He left, changing his appearance as soon as her door closed. It would not do to have people seeing the Allfather visiting a Pleasure Lady. He also needed to keep her safe from prying eyes if he was to proceed with his plan.

It was a dangerous plan; so much could go wrong, but he was at his wits' end. If he was to function and keep this charade up over time, he had to find a way to heal, if only for a moment. He needed a respite; he needed some sound sleep. He needed... what only she could give.

* * *

He arrived late at night, this time as himself, and seeing her fully dressed he had to wonder if she had been sleeping at all.

She let him in without a word, and carefully locked the door before reaching up to touch his face. He remained quiet and still as her palms stroke his cheeks, her fingers traced his eyebrows, her thumb caressed his lips.

Her soft hands continued down his shoulders, his arms. She took his hands in hers like she'd done that very first time he'd visited. 

She would notice, of course. As soon as his clothing came undone she would see.

"I am so very pleased to see you," she smiled. There was a glimmer in her eyes that could have been tears, but he couldn't be sure. Why, after all, would a pleasure lady shed tears over him?

"Likewise," Loki said. "It is of utmost importance that my return is kept secret."

"It is," she agreed. "What do you seek?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, still holding on to her hands, not able to let them go.  
"I seek... a quiet to my incessant thoughts."

"And what else?"

Yes, perceptive as always she was.

"I seek... to dull the pain, replace it with pleasure, with rest. I wish to feel as I once did when coming here."

She led him to the bedroom. It looked no different than last time. Only a little over two years had passed, although it felt longer. He was no longer the same, but he very much hoped that she was.

Loki wondered briefly how she would react if he was to reveal what he really was. Would she shy away in horror, in disgust and fear? He hoped not, but to be certain his heritage was not something he ever planned to disclose.  
"Undress me," he said.

She smiled and reached up to loosen his garments, skilled fingers working with ease. He awaited her reaction as his bare skin came to view, forcing himself to keep quiet and still.

She looked, then placed a hand on his chest, slowly sliding it downwards. The scar from Svartalfheim she touched first, then moved on to the others, one by one. She circled him as she had done that very first time, and touched her fingers gently to the scars on his back. He managed not to flinch, but she must have noticed him tensing.

"These were done on purpose," she concluded, " and not all are from battle."

"Indeed they are not."

He was only half-naked yet, but she placed a hand on the small of his back and led him to the bed.  
"Lie down for me," she requested, and he did, resting his chest and abdomen against the soft covers.

She sat down next to him and ran her hands over his back. His muscles tensed in reflex.

"How long do you wish to stay?" she asked.

"As long as it takes."

She leaned to the side and when her hands returned there was scented oil on them. Her touch was light and unintrusive as she spread it over his skin. He closed his eyes to feel the sensations better.

"You need to unlearn your expectations of pain," she said. "Those who inflicted these wounds intended to harm you, but others will not. It may take time, but you will learn to welcome touch, not shy away from it."

Loki didn't answer, merely listened, pushing his doubts away for later. She was the only one who would be allowed to touch him. He had no desire to expose himself in such a manner to anyone else.

Her hands flowed like silk over his overreactive flesh, the oil softening the touch. Gentle fingers caressed him as nothing had since before he fell.

He had imagined her hands on him while locked in the dungeons, closed his eyes and dreamt to pass the time. In the silence of night he had created illusions to hide that he was stroking himself, not merely for release but to recall her touch. She had treated him like he was precious, worthy of admiration. That alone was reason to return to her embrace once more.

She asked him to turn around and he did so willingly. Her reaction upon seeing his scars had been milder than expected. Most importantly, she had not been repulsed.

She renewed the oil on her hands and began stroking them soothingly over his ribs as he watched her every move. Her thumbs slid over his nipples and down towards his navel. Involuntarily he tensed his stomach muscles and had to force himself to relax. This wouldn't do; he had to learn to control his reactions if he was to gain any pleasure from this.

"There is no need to chastise yourself," she said as if reading his thoughts. "I already told you it will take time."

"Yes."

He let her continue her gentle ministrations but tensed again as she unlaced his pants and started sliding them down over his hips. There were scars on his legs too.

She removed his pants completely, caressing his feet in the process. He enjoyed that, much as he had enjoyed her stroking his hands. There was no part of him that she hadn't touched at least once before he fell.

Adding more oil to her hands, she rubbed the soles of his feet before steadily moving upwards, massaging his shins and thigh muscles with determination and skill. He sighed at the relaxation that slowly began seeping through his limbs and dissolving the tension in its way.

She touched every scar, just like she'd done with the ones on his upper body, and there was no trace of recoil in her features as her eyes took them in; only quiet consideration. 

"You traveled far and wide," she said, "but you found your way home. That is what matters."

He wasn't too sure but chose not to contradict her right now. Her voice was as soothing as her touch. He didn't want to break the flow and soil the moment.

When she reached his manhood he didn't even flinch, so natural was the shift, so familiar her hands' embrace. He emitted a deep sigh, tensing again but this time in a pleasant manner. He had missed this more than he'd allowed himself to realize.

Her hands caressed along the length of his growing erection, circling the head with her thumb before lowering her mouth to it. He groaned softly as the warmth enveloped him, closing his eyes to fully appreciate the sensation. In a way, it was like coming home. So much had changed, about himself and the world he'd left behind, but this... this was as familiar as anything would ever be. If anything could heal him it would be this, the last piece of a world that hadn't betrayed him.

As her mouth took him deeper he moved his hips to meet her, indulging fully in the thrills her tongue evoked. His fingers sought out her hair, nestling inside it, silky strands caressing the skin, heightening the sensations.

It should have embarrassed him how quickly he came to closure, but all he felt was relief.

As she moved up to embrace him, he greedily ran his hands over her body, squeezing the soft flesh. Always so warm and welcoming, he indulged in her closeness, inhaling her scent like a long lost memory, burying his face between her breasts.

He rolled her over on her back and entered her forcefully, burying himself as deeply as he possibly could just to feel her slick warmth enclose him fully. As he tasted himself on her tongue he began to move, claiming her as his own, and her legs rose up to embrace his waist in welcome.

He dug his fingers into her skin so harshly they were bound to leave bruises but her breathless yelps only served to arouse him more. As he released, he felt her shudder and respond, clenching around him and it drove his pleasure even higher.

"I wish to keep you with me," he murmured, still resting his weight on her body, now filled to the brink with his essence.

"Such foolish talk," she responded softly, caressing his hair.

"Why would it be foolish?" he wondered. "The Allfather can do as he pleases."

"And he would allow this? Everybody would wonder why a Pleasure Lady was to take up residence in the palace."

"You would not have to be a Pleasure Lady anymore," Loki insisted. "All your needs would be met. The only one you'd serve would be me."

She smiled at him.  
"Is that what you wish?"

He almost felt as innocent and uncertain as when he first had entered her chambers.  
"Why would it not be? Perhaps I simply want to fall asleep in your bed for the night, rather than having to rush home and wait for the next opportunity to escape my duties? Perhaps..."

She pulled his head down toward her chest, effectively silencing him.  
"Shh, my dear. This is not the time. There would be too many questions and I understand your presence must be kept a secret. You will always be welcome here; don't be greedy."

He felt like a scolded child but couldn't deny that she was right. This was not the time. It was a foolish move that could jeopardize everything.

His manhood, still inside her, began to swell with want once again. If he couldn't bring her back with him, he could still make the most of this night. And over time, he would find a way.

She meant too much to him to ever let go again.

He would find a way.


End file.
